


Mine

by moonpenis (Reyn)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anger, Het and Slash, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Nipple Play, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 05:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyn/pseuds/moonpenis
Summary: Damian lets Dick perform for an audience, despite his overwhelming jealousy.





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> An explanation of the tags, since I don't like abusing AO3's tagging system:
> 
> This story starts off with a heterosexual scene. Dick and Barbara are the two subs together in the scene. Despite this, there is no connection between them, because Dick 100% belongs to Damian.
> 
> As for Damian's anger, this leads to some slightly unsafe BDSM practices simply because it is never wise to go into a scene angry.

Oracle’s cry of pleasure nearly bordered on pain as Nightwing’s teeth pulled hard enough at her nipple to force her back to arch up off the floor.

From his reserved seat amongst the audience, Damian’s grip on the armrest tightened further. He didn’t need the best vantage point the club had to offer to see the slick lines of precum spill from its pooled position on Oracle’s stomach. In fact, he was fairly positive that even those in the back who were straining their necks to try and get a good view could clearly see the stream of precum every time it emerged from Nightwing’s fully erect cock.

The whole club was now knew just how the true the rumors were about Nightwing’s oral fixation being strong enough for him to get off without being touched.

Damian hated it. Nightwing belonged to him and while he permitted others to admire him from afar, none of them had any right to see him lose himself in sexual pleasure the way that Damian did. He hoped the entire audience died of depression once this was over and they realized just how beautiful Nightwing truly was. That they would all resort to slitting their own wrists in the agony that they could never have him, never _touch_ him, never see him like this ever again.

A whimper from the stage was echoed somewhere in the audience as Nightwing pulled back, taking a moment to catch his breath before straightening. His forearms were bound together behind his back, leaving him with little means to keep his balance as Oracle constantly writhed under his ministrations. With far more grace than any stranger should be allowed to witness, he brought one leg up from its kneeling position before sliding it forward until his foot was just brushing the red strands of Oracle’s loose hair. Without any hint of strain, Nightwing bent right back over, his show of flexibility causing gasps of delight from the audience. Using his lips to trace over the swell of breasts, he once again found a pert nipple to continue lavishing his attentions on.

The hot pounding of Damian’s blood finally began to center more between his legs. Nightwing had stopped teasing the woman and was now suckling her in earnest, a tactic Damian recognized to show that Nightwing was close to completion. The subtle change was enough to put Damian’s body right on the edge, his anger now battling with his desire. He could easily imagine what Nightwing’s tongue was doing to please Oracle as he enthusiastically sucked on her flesh. Her moans were growing breathless and her hips were undulating into the air. She had to be close as well.

A deep groan sounded from Nightwing’s throat and Oracle was suddenly bent back nearly in half as her helpless cries reverberated around the room, toes curling while her lower half jerked as her orgasm crashed over her. Damian’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Nightwing, whose cock convulsed hard enough to send jets of viscous liquid flying out to land between pale breasts. Tilting his head down, Nightwing buried his masked eyes into Oracle’s cleavage until his cock stopped twitching and only then did he lift up, bringing his leg back under him so that he could kneel back and patiently wait to be led offstage.

Shocked whispers soon rippled through the crowd as the seconds ticked by and the stagehands arrived to escort the two featured performers away. Nightwing’s erection was still prominent. As he stood, his balls appeared heavy and full. There was no clear sign of any milky trails on either body.

Despite his reaction to Oracle’s orgasm, Nightwing had managed to prevent himself from cumming.

+

Damian made it a point to slam the heavy door behind him upon entering the private room. Standing on the bright red rug near its center was Nightwing, looking very much like he was on display in his own personal spotlight.

His arms were still bound and his mask was still fixed in place, leaving him just as blind as he had been on stage.

“You enjoyed that,” Damian accused, kicking his boots off in the direction of the nearest wall as he stormed around the circular rug.

Nightwing’s head turned slightly in the direction of the thud. He responded, despite the answer being obvious. “Yes.”

Fingers fumbled over buttons in Damian’s haste to rip his shirt off. “You like being the center of everyone’s attention.”

“Yes.”

He verbally snarled and snatched up a thick whipping stick from the display table as he passed it by.

“You like the feel of a woman’s breast in your mouth.”

It was a loaded reproach. They both knew Nightwing liked the feel of pretty much anything in his mouth.

“Yes.”

Damian’s stride remained the same as he paced behind Nightwing and brought the stick down hard on his calves. With a hiss, Nightwing dropped to his knees.

“If you enjoy it so much, why don’t you go be with her instead?” Damian demanded, coming to a stop in front of Nightwing. He twirled the stick back so that he could hold it with the underside of his arm, leaving his hands free to undo his pants.

Raised on his knees, Nightwing’s mouth was level with Damian’s belly button as he held his head defiantly forward. “I don’t want her,” he spoke, a small furrow appearing in his brow.

Stepping out of his pants and kicking them aside, Damian gently slid the tips of two fingers under Nightwing’s mask before ripping it off with a quick jerk of his arm. The movement caused Nightwing’s head to snap to the side.

“Liar!” The word was dark and held far too much emotion. “Why didn’t you come? It’s clear you were fighting it back. Why not just let go and please your audience?”

Slowly, Dick turned his head until his blue eyes were locked on with Damian’s.

“Because I only come for you.”

Something within Damian untwisted at those words and suddenly he was in Dick’s lap, kissing him as he fell back at the unexpected imbalance of weight.

The scene, the knowledge that they were in a private room at a club, their roles, all of it was discarded in favor of Damian’s jealousy being swept away in elation.

“Dami—”

“Shut up,” Damian ordered, noticing the strain in Dick’s voice and acknowledging it by lifting his hips to put some space between them.

But rather than back off completely, Damian tilted his hips forward, grabbed the base of Dick’s leaking erection, and lined it up with his opening. Dick’s gasp of surprise as he slid in with ease was cut off with a low groan through gritted teeth.

“Stop holding back,” Damian ordered, panting heavily at the stretch his body wasn’t fully prepared for. At least the lube had lasted.

When Dick still failed to come, Damian grabbed him by his hair and hauled him up, crashing their lips together and forcing his tongue into Dick’s mouth.

Dick’s reaction was instant. He sucked on the intruder, allowing it to drown out his cries as his orgasm finally overtook him. The rapid, seemingly never ending pulsing filled Damian with an intense satisfaction as his grip on Dick’s hair loosened into a soothing stroke.

Their kiss ended and Dick buried his face into Damian’s shoulder, still shuddering through the aftershocks of each muscle spasm.

“Good,” Damian muttered. “Good. You’re mine, Dick Grayson. All mine.”

“Yes,” was the whispered agreement in the otherwise quiet room.

THE END.


End file.
